Discovering The Truth
by notsoinnocentfangirl
Summary: Arthur's not as much of an idiot as some of us seem to think he is. He's known that Merlin was a sorcerer since the beginning. This was his reaction to it. Preslash. Please be gentle. First time with this pairing. Review!


_**A/N: Hey, this is my very first Merthur fanfic (I usually only write for Sirius and Remus) so please be gentle. I'm proud of it. **_

_**Disclaimers: I own nothing pertaining to Merlin or BBC**_

_**Warnings: Pre-slash, with some very strong hints of Arthur denying the obvious. Seriously, he should just embrace his love for a certain big eared warlock. **_

_**Spoilers: Episodes 1-3 of season 1, I think.**_

_**Dedications: To Merthur, the author, not the pairing. She's the one that pushed me to write this, so thanks sweetie. I had fun doing it too. **_

_**Discovering The Truth**_

_He's a sorcerer._

The words filter through my mind again and again, sending an acute pain through my forehead, causing me to clutch at it to try to drive it away.

_He's a sorcerer._

My chest begins to ache, a constant, fierce sort of ache that has never hit me before, a mixture of longing and grief and disbelief, and still all I can think is that he is a sorcerer.

I don't want it to be true.

I don't want it not to be true.

Everything suddenly makes so much sense now. I suddenly understand why he would disappear for random periods of time (probably off saving some magical being in distress, rather than off in a dark corner having his way with one of the kitchen maids, as _I did not_ fear, thank you very bloody much!) and why he always seemed to have something else on his mind. ("Merlin, stop daydreaming like some bloody girl and get to work." "Yes sire.") It also explains why he always seemed to be lying to me ("Merlin, did you honestly polish these yourself?" "Yes sire.") and why he always seemed to be hiding something from me ("Merlin…." "I swear there's nothing to tell sire.")

Nothing to tell my great royal arse.

I want to scream. I want to rage and storm around the castle and grab my sword and attack the first bloody thing that comes into view. I want to hurt something, to destroy it, to bring it into as much of a turmoil as I am in at this very moment, but most of all, I want to grab Merlin and shake him, look him in those great big blue eyes of his, and ask him why; why come here of all places, to Camelot, when he has magic, and magic can get one killed.

I don't want to have to watch Merlin die.

Yes, I am happy to have Merlin in my life. He may be no more than my manservant, but he has managed to win me over with his courage and his blind sense of what's right and what's wrong and with that smile of his that can manage to distract me even at the best of times (which does not mean anything, not at all.) Also, I do value his sense of humor very much. It feels good to laugh, especially when it does not involve embarrassing or harming other people, at least… not in the way I once had done in order to show off to my friends.

He is my friend, the only true friend I have ever had, and a bit more than that, if I ever set aside my pride long enough to admit that, but despite how much I enjoy having him around….

I don't want him dead.

I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of this dark depression that I seem to be sinking into, before plopping down on my bed and placing my head and my hands.

Why am I sitting here, thinking of his death, when he is nowhere near dying? He has been here for a few months now, and never, never has he run into any trouble.

Well, that's not quite true. He's run into quite a bit of trouble, with me, with Valiant, with my father, with the whole saving people in need thing, and I'm sure he'll run into more trouble still, but it's never been anything I couldn't pull him out of.

If my Father found out about his magic though…. I wouldn't be able to save him… I wouldn't….

But he won't find out.

After all, the only reason I know is because of Morgana.

No, she doesn't know Merlin, my Merlin, is a sorcerer, at least, she's shown no sign that she does, but as she was yelling at Father in the throne room today, listing all the reasons why Guinevere could not be a sorceress, it was as if a light suddenly went on inside my head, and I understood.

"_Her fingers are worn…."_

Merlin's hands, even after the countless tasks he has performed day after day for months now, are smooth and rather soft, by the looks of them at least, all lean, finely sculptured bones and pale, unblemished skin. There are no marks, no scars, no calluses.

"_Her nails are broken…"_

Merlin's nails are not broken, at least not from work. They are worn short due to being bitten out of habit, but not damaged from any other task.

"…_.why would she kneel on the cold, stone floor, morning after morning…"_

How often did I truly witness Merlin partake in his tasks? Have I honestly ever seen him do any of his work by hand, aside from when he truly is upset? I'm sure he still does some of his work by hand. I know that he is by no means lazy, but still, he gets everything done so fast….

"…_when she could do it with a snap of her fingers?"_

Merlin was… is a sorcerer.

"…._like an idle king."_

What right did I have to punish him for it though?

Oh, how part of me wishes that it wasn't so, how it would be so much easier, more simple, if Merlin was nothing more than a normal lad with ridiculously large ears (that I _do not_ find adorable) and an idiotically goofy smile and high cheek bones and clumsy limbs.

And yet ,now that I know that it's there, I see the way that magic makes him shine, the way it makes him glow and vibrate with power and… it suits him, it's a part of him, and never can I wish for that to be taken from him.

God lord, I sound like a bloody girl.

And anyways, nothing dealing with Merlin has ever been easy or simple.

I remember the way my heart had stopped hours after listening to Morgana's talk with Father, when Merlin had burst into the counselor's meeting and disrupted whatever Gaius had been about to say, stating loudly and without fear that it had been him that had cured Guinevere's father with magic, that he could not allow Guinevere to die for him….

And then he told my Father that he put himself at his mercy.

And I could do nothing more than jump into action.

Because people got their heads _chopped off_ when at my father's mercy.

The only thing that was going through my mind at the time was _nopleasenotMerlinpleasenostop__, _so really, it wasn't my fault that I could come up with no better excuse than him being in love with Gwen (which better not be bloody true…. Not that it would make any difference to me.)

And then I had told him firmly, and how I hope he had heard the meaning behind my words, the he _could not be a sorcerer._

He could never allow my father to know that he possesses magic.

And anyways, there is no need for my father to know of Merlin's magic. I know that it is not evil. He has only ever used it for good.

I had seen him last night when he had used it to help rid of the afanc and stop anymore of my people from dying.

And I haven't gotten any sleep sense then.

Because I _can't stop thinking of the idiot. _(not that that means anything.)

"Sire," Merlin calls, coming into the room and pulling the blinds open minutes later. "Time to wake up."

I sigh. I suppose I won't get any sleep at all.

"Merlin you idiot," I say, rubbing my eyes as I sit up in bed, "did you bring my breakfast?"

"Yes sire." Merlin says, coming over to help me into my robe.

"Are you still idiotically in love with Guinevere," I ask, grinning at the dark haired boy smugly.

Merlin glares at me. "Prat."

"What was that?"

"Oh sorry. Your royal pratness."

"I can throw you in the stocks for that you know," I tell him, beginning to eat my breakfast.

Merlin just shrugs and begins to do his chores.

"So Merlin," I say after a few moments of silence.

He looks up at me with curiosity in his eyes. "Yes?"

"Never mind."

I won't tell him that I know of his magic. I don't want to have him worry over it. For now, I'll keep it to myself, and when he's ready to tell me, well then I'll kindly rub it in his face that I've known all along.

As for me falling for the idiot, which I am not doing, thank you, I think I'll keep that bit to myself as well.

_**A/N: So were those hints of Arthur denying the obvious pretty strong? Let me know how I did please. I'm think of doing a sequel to this, and also writing some more Merthur stuff, but I'm not so sure yet. Please review :D I'd appreciate it. I'm sort of self conscious. Lol. **_


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